


Christmas Gifts

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-03
Updated: 2006-01-03
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12411969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Ginny and Harry are coerced into babysitting Ron and Hermione's twins ... and find out that sometimes a little togetherness is all it takes to fix even the pettiest of problems. One-Shot. Scrivenshaft Challenge Award Winner!





	Christmas Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

“Ginny, please, you know I wouldn’t ask this if I wasn’t desperate.”�

 

“I would hope not,”� Ginny replied stiffly. “Hermione, you know that I have this deadline and how strict Dennis is …”�

 

“Ginny, _please_ ,”� Hermione implored. " _Please_ do this for me!”�

 

“Stop begging!”� Ginny exclaimed. She closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you ask Bill? And Fred? And George?”�

 

“Bill’s sick, and Fred and George are busy at the shop. They never can get away this close to Christmas,”� Hermione said. “And, besides, they’re not exactly my first pick to watch my twins.”�

 

Ginny couldn’t help grinning at that comment. She knew that Hermione considered Fred and George a bad influence on the five-year-old Christina and Brian. She also knew that, try though they might, her brothers could not possibly influence Christina and Brian toward any more mischief than they got into on their own. The two were even worse than their uncles when it came to misbehavior, as Molly Weasley herself had commented on more than one occasion. 

 

“What about your parents?”� Ginny asked in a last-ditch effort to get herself out of a babysitting job she did not have the time to do.

“I can’t leave them alone with the twins — not now that they’ve discovered their magic,”� Hermione said. “Mum and Dad can’t keep up with them.”�

 

“And my parents are in Romania with Charlie until they all come home for Christmas,”� Ginny muttered. 

 

“Exactly,”� Hermione said, the desperation creeping back into her voice. “Don’t you see, Ginny? You’re my only hope!”�

 

Ginny drew a deep breath. “Have you asked Harry?”�

 

“The last time I left the twins alone with Harry, I came home to find half my kitchen destroyed,”� Hermione replied. “Harry is one of my best friends, and I know he loves my children, but he just can’t control them. He just wants to play with them and he thinks they’re funny.”� She paused, her eyes lighting up. “I’ll tell you what,”� she said in rush, “I’ll get in touch with Harry and see if he can come over, too. Then you’ll both be here with them. He can keep them occupied so that you can get your work done, and you can run interference if things get out of control. Will that work?”�

 

“Hermione, this isn’t some ploy to get Harry and I to talk again, is it?”� Ginny asked warily. 

 

“Why would you think that?”� Hermione asked. “Listen, Ginny, I’m out of options here. Ron and I have to buy the kids’ Christmas gifts, and we can’t do that if we can’t find anyone to stay with them. Right now, you and Harry are it. I know that you know that I want to see you guys work out your problems, but this isn’t some crazy matchmaking scheme — I really just need your help. So, what do you say? If I can convince Harry to come, will you come, too?”�

 

“Oh, all right,”� Ginny said testily. “What time do you want me there?”�

 

“Is seven all right?”�

 

“Sure,”� Ginny said, wondering if by some small miracle she could get her story done before seven. “I’ll be there.”�

 

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”� Hermione cried. “You are the best sister-in-law ever!”�

 

Ginny laughed. “I’ll be sure to mention that to Fleur the next time I see her.”�

 

“You can do anything you want!”� Hermione exclaimed. “Thank you, Ginny! I’ll see you at seven!”�

 

Her head vanished from the flames in Ginny’s fireplace. Ginny knew she was probably already trying to track down Harry. She sighed as she stood up slowly, flexing her knees to bring the feeling back to them. She had been kneeling on the stone hearth talking to her sister-in-law for far too long. 

 

As she stood next to the fireplace, her eyes fell on the pictures lined up on the mantle. The first was of the twins in question. Christina and Brian looked quite angelic in the picture with their arms wrapped around one another. Then, as if to declare Ginny a liar even in her thoughts, Brian pulled a lock of Christina’s hair. She reacted violently, smacking at his face. He kicked her shins, and she shoved him until he toppled over, sprawling on his back. 

 

Ginny looked away from the picture with a sigh. She was going to have her hands full. Then again, she would have help …

 

She looked at another picture, this one of her and Harry. Harry had his arms wrapped around her from behind, and she leaned back against him. As she watched, Harry kissed her temple, and she turned to kiss his cheek.

Tears formed in Ginny’s eyes as she sighed again. How had things changed so much in a few short months? That picture had been taken in September, right after Harry had asked her to marry him. They had been so happy, so thrilled to be together, and then … 

 

She closed her eyes as the memories of _the fight_ crowded in around her. She honestly didn’t even remember what it had been about, or even who had hurled the first insult. All she knew for sure was that two weeks ago she had stormed out of Harry’s house, screaming that she never wanted to see him again. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered throwing her diamond engagement ring at him. They hadn’t spoken since. 

 

And now Hermione wanted them to babysit together? Was she insane? 

~~~

 

Promptly at seven, Ginny knocked on her brother’s door. Ron answered the door with Brian clinging to his leg. 

 

“Hey, Ginny! Come in,”� he said with a smile. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”�

 

“Anything to help,”� she grinned. “Hi, Brian.”�

 

“Hi, Aunt Ginny,”� he said cheerfully. 

 

“Are you ready to have fun with me tonight?”�

 

“Mummy said you have to work,”� he replied. “She said you can’t play with us.”�

 

“Well, I can play with you a bit,”� Ginny said, feeling bad about her attitude. She didn’t want her nephew to think that she was neglecting him. She looked up at Ron. “Is Harry coming as the entertainment, then?”�

 

“He’s already here,”� Ron replied. He looked a bit uneasy. “Are you two going to be okay with the kids?”�

 

“Of course,”� Ginny replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “We’re both adults, Ron. We can handle this.”�

 

“Okay,”� Ron said, still looking unsure. “Well, they go to bed in two hours.”�

 

“Right,”� she said. “Bath at eight-thirty, in bed at nine, read them a story and lights out by nine-thirty. I know the drill.”�

 

“I know,”� Ron grinned. “You’re a fantastic babysitter.”�

 

“You only say that because you know they usually listen to me.”�

 

“ _Usually_ being the operative word,”� Ron laughed. “Here, Brian, hang up Aunt Ginny’s cloak.”�

 

Ginny gave her cloak to Brian, who ran to the closet with it. She wondered what she would find in her pockets when he was done with it, but chose not to comment. 

 

“Where’s everyone else?”� she asked Ron. 

 

“Hermione and Harry are in the kitchen,”� he replied. “I don’t know where Chrissie is.”�

 

“That can’t be good,”� Ginny laughed. 

 

“She’ll turn up,”� Ron replied with a shrug. “She’ll probably be covered in Hermione’s lipstick or something, but that’s pretty normal around here.”�

 

“Ah, well, only six more years until they start at Hogwarts,”� Ginny said. 

 

“Believe me, sometimes I actually count the days,”� Ron laughed. “Come on, let’s go see Hermione and Harry.”�

 

Ginny followed Ron back to the kitchen, trying to fight down the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in her stomach. She was terrified of seeing Harry for the first time since that horrible day. She didn’t know how he would react to her or even how she would react to him.

 

All too soon, Ron pushed open the kitchen door. “Look who I found,”� he said as he ushered Ginny in ahead of him. 

 

“Ginny, hi!”� Hermione said. “I was just telling Harry that he’s on entertainment detail tonight so you can get some work done.”�

 

“Pretty much,”� Ginny said. She forced herself to look from Hermione to Harry. “Hello, Harry.”�

 

“Hi, Ginny,”� he said, smiling at her. “How have you been?”�

 

“Okay,”� she said. “Okay”� was a rather gross exaggeration of the truth; she had been horribly upset over the breakdown in their relationship. In fact, the reason she was struggling to get her story done the day before it was due was that she hadn’t been able to concentrate on her work after _the fight_.

 

“That’s good,”� Harry said. 

 

“How have you been?”� she asked, remembering her manners. 

 

“Okay,”� he echoed, smiling again. 

 

Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the smile couldn’t banish the sadness in his eyes. _I did that_ , she thought with a pang. _We had some stupid fight and I went and broke his heart over it_. But, he had broken her heart, as well. This wasn’t easy on either of them. 

 

“Well,”� Hermione said, trying to cut through the tension that had settled over the room like a dark cloud, “you both know how this works. They have to be in the bath at —”�

 

“Eight-thirty,”� Harry interrupted with a smile. “They have to be in bed with a story at nine, and lights out half an hour later. We’re good, Hermione.”� 

 

“I know,”� she said. “I just tell you over and over to make myself happy.”� She ran a hand through her hair as though trying to remember everything. “They’ve already had dinner and more than enough snacks, so don’t let them talk you into anything food-wise.”� She glanced at Harry a bit severely as she spoke. 

 

“What?”� he asked with a grin. “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!”�

 

Hermione laughed. “Come on, Harry, I know how much you spoil them. Just don’t let them have anything more to eat, all right?”�

 

“No food,”� Harry replied. “Got it.”�

 

“Good. And please try to keep them out of Ginny’s hair.”�

 

“I think I can handle that,”� Harry said, looking at Ginny. She held his gaze for a moment, then, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, looked away. “Where are they, anyway?”�

 

“We should probably find them, huh?”� Ron grinned. 

 

Brian solved half his father’s problem as he ran into the kitchen clutching the family cat around the middle. 

 

“Daddy, Crookshanks was trying to climb the Christmas tree again!”� 

 

“Don’t drag him around like that, Brian,”� Ron said. “Just do your best to keep him away from the tree, okay?”�

 

“Okay.”�

 

“Where’s your sister?”�

 

“I don’t know.”�

 

Ron shook his head. “Chrissie!”� he called, walking out of the kitchen in search of his daughter. “Chrissie, come here and say hello to Harry and Aunt Ginny!”�

 

After a moment, they heard the pounding of small feet against the stairs. The sound changed as Christina hit the first floor and began running toward the kitchen. She burst through the door, covered, as Ron had predicted, in her mother’s makeup. 

 

“Christina, how many times do I have to tell you to stay way from my makeup?”� Hermione cried. She picked up her wand off the counter. “ _Scourgify_!”�

 

“Mummy!”� Christina wailed as the spell hit her face, removing all traces of the makeup. “I looked pretty!”�

 

“You don’t need to look pretty right now,”� Hermione said. “You’re going to stay home with Aunt Ginny and Harry while Mummy and Daddy go out.”�

 

“Where are you going?”� Christina asked curiously.

 

“Shopping,”� Hermione said. “Will you bring me something?”�

 

“If you’re a good girl for Harry and Aunt Ginny,”� Hermione said. “Now come and give me a kiss goodbye. You, too, Brian.”�

 

Both twins ran across the room and jumped into Hermione’s arms. She covered their faces in kisses, then straightened up again. She smiled at Harry and Ginny. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. We’ll be home before midnight.”�

 

“I should hope so, since the stores close before eleven,”� Harry grinned. 

 

“Hey, we’re entitled to some quality time alone,”� Ron said, putting his arm around his wife.

 

“Ugh, Ron, stop it,”� Ginny laughed. “I don’t even want to know what you meant by that!”�

 

Ron laughed, then bent down to kiss the children goodbye. “We’ll see you all later. Have fun.”�

 

“Be good,”� Hermione added warningly to the twins. 

 

“We will,”� they chorused. 

 

“Right,”� Harry muttered to Ginny. She laughed, then looked up at him as though startled that he had made her laugh. He smiled and winked at her. 

 

Ron and Hermione Disapparated, leaving Harry and Ginny alone with the twins. Brian and Christina looked up at them expectantly. 

 

“Can we play Quidditch?”� Brian asked. 

 

“Not in the dark,”� Harry replied. 

 

“We can play inside,”� Brian said. 

 

“Yeah, me and Brian got brooms for our birthday,”� Christina said. “They don’t go high, so we can use them inside.”�

 

“I really doubt that your mum and dad want you flying inside,”� Ginny said, looking around at the amazingly clean, beautifully decorated house. 

 

“They don’t mind,”� Brian said. “Please, Harry, will you play with us?”�

 

“I don’t have my Firebolt.”�

 

“You don’t need it,”� Christina said. “You can just run around.”�

 

“I don’t know, guys …”�

 

They exchanged a glance. Brian reached down and picked up their toy Quaffle from under the kitchen table. 

 

“Come on, Harry! Can’t you even toss a puny, little ball?”�

 

Harry glanced at Ginny with a semi-apologetic expression. “Okay, let’s play. But let’s stay out of the library. We’ll let Aunt Ginny work in there.”�

 

“Okay!”� the twins exclaimed in unison. They darted off to get their broomsticks. 

 

“Do you realize what you’ve agreed to?”� Ginny asked. 

 

“Probably not,”� Harry replied with a grin. “But they insulted my athletic ability! I had to do _something_.”�

 

“Right,”� Ginny replied, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll be in the library, since that appears to be where you’ve banished me to.”�

 

“Ginny, that’s not what I was trying to do — Hermione said you had to get some work done, and I just thought —”�

 

“Forget it,”� Ginny interrupted. “You’re right, I do need to get my work done. Call me if you need me, all right?”�

 

“Look, Ginny —”�

 

Harry was cut off once again as Brian and Christina reappeared. They ran in carrying their toy broomsticks, Quaffle, Bludger and Snitch. 

 

“Have fun,”� Ginny said quickly. She picked up her bag, and made her way to the cool quiet of the library. 

 

If there was one thing she could say about her brother, it was that he had a fabulous library. She knew that this was entirely Hermione’s doing, and she loved her for it. Any time she needed to check a fact for a story, all she had to do was to visit Ron and Hermione. She could find nearly anything in their library; she often commented that it probably rivaled the Hogwarts version. 

 

Today, though, she wasn’t interested in the literally hundreds of books. She settled herself at the desk, and took out her parchment and quills. She had started the piece about various Hogsmeade Christmas traditions two weeks ago, but had stopped work on it after _the fight_. The heartbreak, the anger and the utter panic of being without Harry after working so hard to rebuild her relationship with him after his defeat of Voldemort had driven away all her capacity to work. Now she was down to the last few hours before her editor, Dennis, would be demanding the finished product. Not for the first time since _the_ _fight_ , she began chewing at her nails as she loaded her quill with ink. 

 

She had only written one line when a horrific crash filled the air. It was followed almost immediately by Harry yelling. Ginny jumped in her seat, jerking her quill across the parchment. It caught and snapped, spilling ink all over her hands. 

 

“Bloody hell!”� she exclaimed. She grabbed her wand to clean it up, but before she could utter the spell, the sound of Harry bellowing something at the twins caught her attention. “Harry, can’t you handle this on your own?”� she wailed. She ran out of the room, her wand still clutched in her hand. 

 

When she reached the living room, where Hermione’s gorgeous Christmas tree stood in all its splendor, she realized the cause of the crash and Harry’s raised voice. The twins had managed to knock a lamp over, which was now broken all over the floor. 

 

“We’re sorry!”� Brian and Christina exclaimed together. 

 

“Honestly!”� Harry cried. “I _knew_ indoor Quidditch was a bad idea!”�

 

“Well, you seemed okay with agreeing to play,”� Ginny commented from her place by the door. An amused smile played at her lips as she watched Harry try to come up with the best way to repair the lamp so that Hermione would never know what had happened. 

 

“You didn’t exactly work that hard to talk me out of it,”� Harry replied. 

 

“Well, I thought this was all about me getting my work done.”�

 

“You can get it done as soon as you help me put this lamp back together,”� Harry said. 

 

“Oh, all right,”� Ginny agreed. She crossed the room to help Harry. 

 

With both of them occupied with the lamp, the twins knew that they could leave the room unnoticed. Brian beckoned to Christina silently, leading her to the kitchen.

 

“What are we doing here?”� Christina asked. 

 

“Getting a snack,”� Brian replied. 

 

“But Daddy said no more snacks after he gave us dessert.”�

 

“Daddy’s not here,”� Brian said unconcernedly, crossing to look at the food his mother was making to take to the Christmas party at Uncle Fred and Uncle George’s shop the next day. “How about some cranberry sauce?”�

 

“I like that.”�

 

Brian took the bowl down from the counter, and held it out to offer some to his sister. They both looked down into the bowl for a moment, then up at one another. Identical grins came over their faces. 

 

“Aunt Ginny or Harry?”� Christina asked. 

 

“Aunt Ginny,”� Brian said. “Here, help me carry it.”�

 

Moving as quietly as possible, the twins made their way into the living room. Ginny and Harry were kneeling on the floor next to each other, bent over the lamp. 

 

“No, Harry, I really think that we’re going to need more than just _reparo_ to get this back to-”�

 

Ginny’s words were cut off as she felt something horribly cold and wet pour over her hair. She screamed and jumped to her feet. She whirled around to see Brian and Christina standing behind her, a now-half-empty bowl of cranberry sauce suspended between them. 

 

“ _What do you think you’re doing_?”� she yelled. 

 

They both tried their best not to giggle at the sight of their aunt with cranberry sauce dripping from her hair. Ginny was about to launch into a tirade worthy of her mother when she heard a stifled laugh from behind her. She swung around to see Harry struggling not to laugh at her. 

 

“Do you think this is funny?”� she cried. 

 

“Well — a bit,”� he admitted. 

 

Ginny stared at him wordlessly for a moment. Then her eyes fell on the two cauldrons that Hermione had left bubbling on the coffee table. The first held the cinnamon that she always used to give the house a “Christmasy”� smell. The second held the caramel she was melting down to make candy. Without thinking about what she was doing, Ginny plunged her hands into the cauldron full of caramel.

 

“Ginny, no,”� Harry said, his eyes widening as he realized was she was about to do.

 

“You laughed at me,”� she said, pulling her hands up and out of the cauldron. 

 

“I didn’t mean to,”� he said. 

 

“Doesn’t matter now,”� she said. She reached up and smeared the caramel through his hair and over his face. 

 

The twins shrieked with laughter as Harry opened his eyes, sputtering caramel. He glanced at them, noting how much cranberry sauce remained in the bowl. 

 

“Oh, you asked for it, Ginny,”� he said. He reached into the bowl, pulling up a handful of cranberry sauce, which he flung at her. 

 

Ginny screamed, and ducked. The sauce splattered across the wall behind her.

 

“Missed me!”� 

 

“For the last time!”�

 

While Harry reached down for more cranberry sauce, Ginny grabbed another fistful of liquid caramel. The twins laughed again as the adults began flinging food at one another. They quickly fell into the game, throwing food not only at their aunt and friend, but also at one another and the room in general. 

 

The game came to an abrupt halt when Brian knocked over the cauldron of caramel, sending the flames beneath it flying. Harry and Ginny managed to put out the fire before it could do more than singe a few Christmas cards and several branches of the tree. 

 

“Okay, I think it’s bedtime,”� Ginny said. 

 

“No!”� the twins cried. 

 

“Yeah, it is,”� Harry said. “Let’s go upstairs, guys.”�

 

After fighting to get the twins to take a bath, put on their pajamas and get into bed, Ginny and Harry each read them a story. Exhausted from both their food fight and the battle to put the children to bed, they returned to the crime scene. 

 

“We really need to clean this up,”� Ginny said. “Can you imagine the look on Hermione’s face if she saw her house like this?”�

 

“Right,”� Harry said. He waved his wand listlessly, sending a few ornaments back onto the tree. He glanced up at the gnome-like tree topper that had been a gift from Fred and George. “Can we make that stupid thing stop singing?”�

 

“Nope,”� Ginny sighed, waving her wand to remove some of the caramel from the rug. She fell onto the couch. “Let’s just listen to him for a moment, shall we?”�

 

“Great idea,”� Harry said, collapsing next to her. 

 

Crookshanks came back into the room for the first time since the food fight had started. He looked a bit apprehensive, but finally jumped up on the couch between Harry and Ginny. 

 

“This is all your fault, you know,”� Ginny said, indicating the mess that had been Hermione’s beautifully decorated house. “I’ll be sure to tell Ron and Hermione that when they come home.”�

 

“I’m sure you will,”� Harry said lazily. 

 

They lapsed into silence. Ginny ran her fingers over Crookshanks’s head, hoping that she wasn’t leaving caramel in his fur. 

 

Harry glanced over at Ginny. She looked gorgeous, even though she was covered in the same caramel and cranberry sauce that now decorated the room. He reached over to put his hand on her knee. She looked up at him in surprise. 

 

“Ginny,”� he said softly, “I’m sorry.”�

 

“Harry, I was kidding,”� she smiled. “I’m as much to blame for the food fight as you are.”�

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,”� he said. 

 

“What are you talking about, then?”�

 

“About our fight — _the fight_. I should never have said the things that I did. I didn’t mean them, and … Ginny, I’ve been miserable ever since that day. I want things to be like they were before. I still love you and I still want to marry you. Can’t we try to make this right?”�

 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she suddenly realized she had been waiting two weeks to hear those words. “I’m sorry, too,”� she whispered. “I love you, Harry.”�

 

He leaned across to kiss her. “I’m so sorry,”� he whispered. “I love you so much.”�

 

“I love you more,”� she whispered, running her sticky fingers through his equally sticky hair. 

 

“Impossible.”� He kissed her again, then pulled back with a smile. “You taste like caramel.”�

 

She smiled. “We’d better get up and get the caramel and cranberry sauce off the walls and lighting fixtures before they get home.”�

 

“Yeah,”� Harry said. He stood to his feet, holding out his hand to pull Ginny up. “I love you,”� he said again. 

 

She grinned. “That’s the best Christmas gift I could ever receive.”�


End file.
